


water in the desert

by imagines



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Spanking, also yuri is at least 18 okay, but i stole ideas from the tag so it’s only fair i tag it right?, daddybek, there is no actual use of the word “daddy” in here bc i’m chicken, what the hell am i doing with my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:22:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9477401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagines/pseuds/imagines
Summary: Otabek isn’t staring or anything, but it’s hard to miss the thump of Yuri’s body crashing into the ice or the loud cursing in Russian that follows it every time. [or: Yuri can't concentrate, so Otabek helps. idk help who even am i]





	

**Author's Note:**

> i’m trash and i’m gonna burn in hell and it’s all the fault of the goddamn daddybek tag. fuck u all. i love you all so much. what did you do to me. i need jesus. set AT LEAST 3 years in the future, are we very clear on that? ok good.
> 
> i wrote this in like two hours just now, and if i don’t post it RIGHT NOW i will NEVER have the nerve so OH WELL HERE WE GO! being awake at 2 AM is kind of like being drunk tbh.
> 
> p.s. this is 100% the fault of daddybek@tumblr, who went and SAID things to me and then i had to write it. you glorious terrible person. bless.

At morning practice, Otabek nails all of his jumps. The final is coming up that night, and it’s good to head into it knowing he’s got this, and all he has to do is pull it out at just the right time.

Yuri does not have nearly as perfect a session. Honestly, he looks downright off-balance today. Otabek isn’t staring or anything, but it’s hard to miss the _thump_ of Yuri’s body crashing into the ice or the loud cursing in Russian that follows it every time.

Otabek finds him alone in the locker room later, barefoot but still in his costume. “What happened out there? You hurt yourself or something?”

In answer, Yuri kicks a locker, the _clanggg_ reverberating around them.

“Okay, all right.” Otabek rubs the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m just worried, that’s all.”

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” Yuri snarls. “It’s _nothing_. Lilia doesn’t know what she’s talking about. That _bitch_.”

“You have to put it out of your mind. Whatever it is. You’re the best one here, and you know it, and so do the rest of us. Just do what you always do.”

“I’d _love_ to put it out of my mind, but it’s like there’s a fucking recording playing. Her stupid whiny voice over and over. Yuri, try to clomp around on the ice a little less. Yuri, we’re going to have to let your costume out if you keep eating this way. Yuri, I don’t care if you’re already perfect, be _more_ perfect. _Fuck_ her.”

“Fuck her,” Otabek agrees. “When you’re done changing, do you want to come to my room?”

Yuri’s eyes snap to him. “Really? Now?”

“If you want to, sure.”

“Yeah,” Yuri breathes. “Yeah, I want to.”

“Okay,” Otabek says. “Don’t worry, kitten, we’ll get her out of your head.”

Yuri closes his eyes; swallows hard. “Can you help me get changed?”

“Of course.” Otabek comes closer, closer, watching Yuri taking shaky breaths, eyes still shut, anticipating. He touches Yuri’s shoulder first, just lightly, then slides his hand down Yuri’s arm to his hand, and he laces his fingers into Yuri’s. “I’ve got you.”

Yuri opens his eyes; his fury has already softened. He holds still while Otabek unfastens the confining fabric, and sighs in relief as Otabek pulls it down off his arms.

Otabek runs his palms down Yuri’s sides, making him shiver. “Hang on to my shoulders and step out of it, okay?” With Yuri clinging to him, he pulls the costume down around Yuri’s ankles and helps him finally free himself.

“Thank you,” Yuri whispers.

“Anytime. I mean it.” Otabek digs through Yuri’s backpack until he finds a soft t-shirt and even softer sweatpants. “Here, these will feel better.”

 

 

They don’t hold hands on the way back to Otabek’s room or anything. For now, this thing is for the two of them alone; as far as anyone else knows, they’re the best of friends. Which isn’t _wrong_.

Inside the room, Yuri goes immediately to the bed and sits down on the edge, looking up at Otabek, saying nothing.

Otabek follows and stands in Yuri’s space without touching him. “What do you need?” he asks.

“I need to forget her,” Yuri says, his eyes going hard for a moment. “Just make me forget her.”

Otabek reaches out; brushes his hand down Yuri’s jaw. Drags his thumb across Yuri’s lips. “Were you polite to your coaches today?”

Yuri’s eyes aren’t quite focused anymore. “Come on, you already know…”

Otabek leans in close, almost speaking against Yuri’s lips. “Were you?”

“No,” Yuri admits. “I was—very rude to them.”

Otabek slips two fingers into Yuri’s mouth, so gently. He traces the sharp edges of teeth; strokes the delicate tongue. “Tell me what you did, Yuri.”

“Called Lilia a bad word,” Yuri mumbles around Otabek’s fingers. “Several bad words. Insulted Yakov’s ancestors, too.”

“Oh dear,” Otabek says, winding Yuri’s ponytail around his other hand. “You know we can’t just let that kind of behavior slide.” He tugs sharply at Yuri’s hair, dragging a small whimper out of Yuri’s throat.

“I know,” Yuri says. “Oh, god, please…”

“What happens when you misbehave?” Otabek pulls his fingers out of Yuri’s mouth and scratches faint lines down Yuri’s throat. Yuri’s whole body jerks.

Yuri takes a deep breath. “You—um—you punish me.”

“Very good,” Otabek tells him. “You’re exactly right. And how do I punish you?”

“Oh, fuck,” Yuri says in a small voice. “I can’t say it.”

Otabek lets go of Yuri’s hair and sits down next to him, drawing him half into his lap, holding him tight. “Yes, you can,” Otabek says. “You can say anything to me.”

Yuri buries his face in Otabek’s shoulder. “You—spank me,” he whispers.

“So good,” Otabek breathes into Yuri’s hair. “I’m so proud of you, kitten. Come here—” He pulls Yuri facedown across his lap, tucking a pillow under his head. “I’m going to start now, okay?”

Yuri nods hard into the pillow.

Otabek runs his hands up the back of Yuri’s legs to the waistband of his sweatpants, then pulls them down until they’re bunched around Yuri’s knees. Otabek places one hand lightly on the back of Yuri’s neck, stroking the fine, soft hair at the nape; Yuri’s fists clench into the bedsheets; Otabek raises his other hand.

Yuri doesn’t move or make a sound at the first few smacks, but by the seventh he’s wriggling and by the tenth the sounds wrenching out of him are high and desperate and Otabek stops to pet his reddened skin. He leans down to Yuri’s ear. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Yuri gasps. “Hurts. Fuck.”

Otabek reaches to grab his hand, winding their fingers together. “I’m going to do ten more,” Otabek tells him. “Okay?”

Yuri squeezes his hand hard. “Do it,” he says. “I can take it.”

“I know you can,” Otabek says, and begins again.

At the end of it, Yuri’s sobbing into the pillow: Otabek’s name and _please_ and _fuck_ and _thank you_ ; and Otabek gently pulls Yuri’s pants back up and lies down with him, and Yuri curls around him like he’s water in the desert, his breathing slowing.

“Better?” Otabek asks.

Yuri nuzzles into his neck and Otabek can feel him smiling. “Oh, so much better,” he says. “Good enough to beat you tonight.”

“Looking forward to it, kitten,” Otabek says, enjoying the little squeak Yuri makes. “What if I call you that when you’re about to skate? What would you do?”

“Kick your ass,” Yuri mutters into his shoulder.

Otabek laughs. “I guess I’d deserve it.” He turns and presses a kiss to Yuri’s forehead. For the next few hours, all that’s left is to sleep and dream together. Tonight, they’ll see which dreams come true.


End file.
